


The Velocity of Vegetables

by legete



Category: A-Babies Vs. X-Babies, Marvel, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Babysitting, Community: trope_bingo, Gen, Longsuffering Teenagers, Oh My God, Podfic Available, Ridiculousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 02:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legete/pseuds/legete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marvelous Meadows has a really unusually high number of infants. That means if you're a teenager with nerves of steel and a willingness to be around babies and...well, okay, basically no other qualifications, you're in constant demand.</p><p>So much for Bucky's night off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Velocity of Vegetables

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely, 100% zekkass's fault. From concept to encouragement to vicious demands, this fic only came into being because she willed it so. Please join me in blaming her.
> 
> Yes, sidekicks are teenagers while the heroes are babies. I don't even know. Please see above paragraph.

Bucky has to cut through a few yards to avoid the crater at the junction of Xavier and Fury, casually kicking orange cones as he goes. “Gas main leak,” his ass. Looks like a bomb went off in the middle of the street.

It’s only a block and a half to Pepper’s house, and it’s a nice evening, so even with a backpack full of books and a hole the size of an Olympic swimming pool to circumnavigate, it only takes a couple minutes to arrive. He fidgets outside the door for a minute, tugging on his backpack strap with his good hand while he thinks this over. They have a history project due together, and originally they were supposed to meet at the library tomorrow, but Pepper texted him earlier and asked if they could move the study session to tonight. At her house. Sam has assured him that if a girl asks you to study over at her house, she’s got an ulterior motive, and it’s usually her wanting to make out with you. He’s not sure he buys it, but c’mon, it’s Pepper Potts--you’d have to be a lot stupider than Bucky to pass up on that chance.

Finally he just bites the bullet and rings the bell. After a few seconds he hears somebody’s footsteps approaching, then the door swings open to reveal Pepper standing there in a pair of cut-off shorts and a volleyball tee with the sleeves rolled up. Her legs are about a million miles long and he can see freckles on her knees, and holy crap, wouldn’t it be amazing if Sam was right?

And then, from the depths of the house, somebody wails.

“Uh,” he says.

“Hiii,” Pepper smiles, and he knows that smile. That’s the smile girls use just before they make your life hell.

Just then, a very familiar baby with a very familiar teddy bear comes toddling out of a doorway.

“Aw, what,” Bucky says, even as Steve lights up at the sight of him.

Pepper gives him a sheepish grin, then turns around to swoop Steve up. “We’re multitasking. Mrs. Rogers mentioned you sit for Steve a lot, and, well.”

Bucky is feeling very duped right now. “Steve’s a good baby. You don’t need my help with him.”

There’s that smile again.

Bucky finds himself standing in Pepper Potts’s living room a few moments later, holding Steve against his hip while she retrieves Tony Stark from a towering empire of safety-size Legos.

“Two of ‘em,” he sighs, then makes to slump back on her couch.

Pepper’s warning cry is the only reason he doubletakes, and that’s when he realizes that, instead of a throw pillow, his intended seat contains a throw pillow _and a baby._

“Christ!” he yelps as he dodges, then winces, “--mas. Christmas. Is a holiday.”

Pepper smirks as Natasha climbs her way on top of him as he sprawls. “I don’t think they’re old enough to be parroting things yet.”

“Remember that when I tell their parents you’re why little Tony’s first word is a four letter one.”

She looks entirely unperturbed. It’s probably because she knows that in a he-said, she-said battle, her word would win. “Dinner’s in an hour, but before and after that, we should be able to get most of our work done. You’re good with Natasha, right?”

He makes an I’m-so-unhappy-I’m-dying sound in return.

He used to babysit for the Rogerses all the time--their houses are really close to each other--until the Romanoffs moved in last winter and started booking up all of the free time he had. Experienced sitters are in high demand; there are a lot of babies in the neighborhood. No, really, a _lot_ of babies. An uncanny number of babies.

Today was supposed to be baby-free. He supposes he _could_ go home, but Pepper would probably tell their teacher that he was uncooperative and he’d fail the assignment. Also, Steve’s got his tiny little fists already balled in Bucky’s shirt, and it’s gonna be hell to extract himself.

“I get half the pay,” Bucky says at last.

“Deal,” Pepper immediately replies, and _damn,_ he should have gone for a higher percentage. Especially since it looks like Steve and Natasha are going to be gravitating toward him tonight.

Despite being essentially one-handed, he helps Pepper spread out a big red-and-gold playmat, which is--apparently--the only one Tony will use.

“He’s an infant,” Bucky points out, not unreasonably. “What does it matter?”

“Don’t fight us on this, Barnes,” Pepper warns, shaking out a corner. “It will only end in tears.”

Well, what does he know, anyway--she sits Tony all the time, she’s the expert. He knows when to pick his battles. In sitting, sometimes the battles are bizarre, brain-hurting things, but if Steve only wants to play with military teddies or Natasha only settles down when she can see every exit, who is he to argue?

After everything’s set up, they scratch important dates down on three-by-fives in relative silence while the babies are enthralled by an old rerun of Dog Cops. It’s the one where Sergeant Spot infiltrates the rat mafia, which was really one of the weaker storylines from season three, but they look like they’re in raptures anyway. Detective Rusty is laying down the law onscreen, and Bucky has to drag his eyes back to his book every few seconds.

“Did you really break your arm falling off a train?” Pepper asks suddenly, peering over her book at him.

Bucky blinks, then pulls a face. “I saw guys freight hopping on YouTube and it looked like fun.”

“You have really dumb ideas.”

If he had a dollar, man. “Compound fracture,” he says, shifting his shoulder so his cast moves. “S’where your bone breaks enough that it pokes outta your skin.”

Pepper grimaces. “I know what a compound fracture is. I’m first-aid certified.”

“Yeah, well, they had to put my arm back together with metal rods. I’ll never be able to go through a metal detector without setting it off again.” He tries to sound appropriately mournful, but so he has to make a few TSA agents work a little harder. He’s not too cut up about it. He’s more irritated by the way the cast _itches._

Dinner is fairly uneventful; they have leftover pizza and soda while trying to convince the babies that mushy peas and cereal bits are delicious and better to eat than use as projectiles. This isn’t as successful as Bucky would like--these kids _really_ love their projectiles. It only seems to get worse when they’re together.

Pepper puts them in a playpen in the living room while she and Bucky set about getting peas off of the walls. Once again, not how he’d planned on spending this evening. They’re only just getting started when a wail draws them back. Steve is plastered to the wall of the pen, whimpering like the world’s ending. Natasha and Tony are being suspiciously quiet and sticking to the other corner of the pen.

Pepper goes to pick Steve up and he wibbles at her and shoves back. “Well, fine,” she says bemusedly.

Bucky thinks about it for a moment, then pops back to the kitchen. Yep, there in Steve’s high chair is the familiar blue-and-red teddy bear. He snags it--it’s immaculate, of course, when every other surface is covered in cereal and vegetable paste--and jogs back to the living room.

“Hey, Steve, I’ve got Bucky Bear,” he tells him, passing it over, where Steve promptly wraps it in a crushing hug.

Pepper’s lips are thin like she’s trying not to laugh, and he gives her a warning glare, which cows her for approximately no time at all.

“So, Bucky Bear?” Pepper smirks as they reenter the battlefield that is the kitchen, and he scowls at her.

“That's what his parents say the bear’s name is,” Bucky sniffs, scratching at some crusty drying pea on the wall. “Can’t help that the kid imprinted on me or whatever.”

“No, I think it’s sweet.”

Bucky pauses to stare at her. “Girls say _I think it’s sweet_ when they’re mocking you and don’t want to be honest about it.”

“Oh no,” Pepper replies, tossing him a sponge, “you’ve cracked girl code! I’ll have to tell the others.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and scrubs harder. “No, don’t. Infiltrating your society will give me occupational practice.”

“Occupational practice?”

They’d had guidance counseling last week where they were supposed to pick a profession they thought they’d go into and what post-graduation route they’d go to achieve that goal. Bucky, whose future plans usually don’t extend to next week, let alone years ahead, had announced to the counselor that he planned to go into international superspydom, as he relays to Pepper.

He can _feel_ her judginess as he makes a gun with the fingers of his free hand and purrs, “Barnes. James Barnes.”

Well, he can also feel the cheerio she flicks at him. He squawks and shakes it out of his hair. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who takes those things seriously. Come on, Virginia, what’d you say you wanna be? No no, lemme guess--a lawyer.”

She juts her chin out. “No, I want to get my MBA and run a company.”

“Poor company.”

He winds up with leftover pea on him.

By the time they’re done cleaning up both the babies’ mess and their own, it’s starting to get late. They head back to finish up their display and find the playpen short a baby. Steve and Tony are collaborating on making surprisingly complex designs with the magnetic doodle board on one wall, but Natasha is nowhere to be seen.

“She’s gone again,” Pepper groans, shoving her hands through her hair. “How does she _do_ that--”

Ah, this is Bucky’s chance to show off. Ages of sitting for Natasha has given him insight. Before this can escalate into panic, he holds up a finger. He takes in the room, its layout, its furniture, its exits. As Pepper’s expression grows increasingly dubious, he walks over to the decorative plant in the corner, pushes a few fronds aside, and picks smug-looking Natasha up out of the potting soil. He’s not sure if babies are actually capable of looking smug, but he calls ‘em like he sees ‘em.

Afterward, Pepper entertains Tony while Natasha watches, and he gets to work gluing printed-out pictures to their posterboard. It’s not the easiest thing in the world one-handed, but he can’t really request that they switch places. He’s already ended up with cheerios shoved down into his cast thanks to Tony, even though he can’t fathom what he’s done to wrong that kid. So instead he gets to gluestick things to the board--and himself. He’s got Steve, who’s drawn to both Bucky and anything arts and craftsy.

Bucky’s busy, which means he and Steve play that passive game where Steve just sits there and grins at him with his dopey little kid grin while Bucky pretends he isn’t paying attention. Every now and again, Steve will lean forward and bat him on the knee, and when Bucky looks up at him, he wiggles in joy. It is the weirdest thing he’s ever seen.

Later, Steve takes crayons to his cast, grinding the wax down to nubs as he creates huge swirls of color on the plaster. It actually kinda hurts--kid’s strong--but Steve looks so happy that Bucky puts up with it. By the time he finally grows bored enough to wander over to what Tony and Natasha are doing, Bucky’s cast is a kaleidoscope of reds and blues and browns. Man, the people at school are gonna laugh.

Pepper’s mom gets home around the time the babies start drifting off, and there’s a flurry of activity where Bucky has to introduce himself and give the adult-approved version of what happened to his arm and explain how he knows both Pepper and their charges, but soon she’s off doing background activities. He winds up slumped on the couch, Steve a warm lump on his chest and Natasha curled up next to his thigh. Pepper gently shakes out the posterboard and takes a look at their handiwork.

“I think it’s done,” she says finally.

“Yaaay,” Bucky mumbles, watching her ceiling fan circle.

She looks over at him and smiles a little. “You can go home, if you want.”

“What, and let you take all the credit for sitting? Not to mention the money.”

Pepper rolls her eyes. “I’d give you your share at school tomorrow.”

“International superspy. I can smell a doublecross coming from a mile away.”

She looks like she wants to throw something else at his head, but the whole “covered in sleeping infants” thing seems to be working for him. Instead, she turns on the TV, puts the volume down low, and turns on America’s Next Top Model as she draws Tony into her lap. Bucky groans, more out of obligation than anything--his sister Rebecca watches ANTM obsessively, so it’s not like he hasn’t been inoculated to it by this point. Also, hi, he’s a teenage boy. He likes models.

“Hey,” he says during a commercial break later, careful not to jostle Steve too much, “you ever think these kids are weird?”

“Weird how?” Pepper asks, tipping her head back to look at him. She really is very pretty, in a sporty kind of way. It’s a shame the making out thing didn’t materialize.

Bucky shrugs with his good shoulder. “Dunno. They’re just weird. Too smart or something.”

“All babies are weird,” Pepper counters.

“If you say so,” Bucky says doubtfully, but then Tyra Banks is making crazy eyes on the screen and he loses his train of thought.

In the end, the Rogerses offer to give him a ride home when they arrive last of the three parental sets, so he doesn’t have to walk. And he makes thirty bucks for the night, which--let’s be honest--he will probably sink straight into Xbox Live DLC, but it’s nice to feel responsible for a little while at least.

He’s getting ready to leave, backpack slung over his shoulder, and this is it, do or die. “So,” he says to Pepper, “nice working with you.”

“Mmhmm,” she says. He waits just a moment longer, subtly leaning toward her, then she raises her eyebrows and adds, “See you tomorrow. Bye,” and shuts the door on him.

Aaaaaand swing and a miss.

“Don’t judge me,” he says to Steve as he slides in next to his carseat. Steve just hands him Bucky Bear and smiles sleepily.

...he better get an A on that freaking assignment.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The Velocity of Vegetables](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1666424) by [legete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/legete/pseuds/legete), [sisi_rambles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisi_rambles/pseuds/sisi_rambles)




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